My children love me. I know this because this morning I asked each one if he'd brushed his teeth. Each delightful, innocent child chriped "Yes, mama!"
And because I am an adoring mother but not a fool, I asked to sniff their breath.
Both of the little darlings clamped their lips shut.
I looked at them, "Your breath would fell a full-grown rhino, wouldn't it?"
They giggled, and ran off to the bathroom to de-offensify their teeth. Their daycare will thank me.
------------------------
My brother, on the other hand, is in league with the cats to do me in. We were discussing our workouts yesterday and he recommended I added more of an interval blast into my treadmill bonding activities, so when I got home I resolved to give it a whirl.
I got on the treadmill and did my first mile in 20 minutes. The second mile is also 20 minutes, but at a 5% incline usually. Well, this time I went up to 10% incline for 2 minute intervals every five minutes on Mile 2 and let me tell you, that kicked my ass. It about killed me.
His wife is getting a text alerting her to her husband's homicidal tendencies.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
DJing Again
I know, I know... the last time I mentioned DJing and me in the same entry I also said it was extremely rare. Well, usually it is, but tonight it's happening again at 8PM eastern, which means that once more the internet airwaves will be filled with the dulcet tones of Whatever Amanda Feels Like Playing Tonight. Hee.
My host this fine evening will be the always Glamtastic Mackenzie Rasmuson of Second Life, which is where this event will be taking place -- in Holmesk at the Glamshack, to be precise. For those of you who spend 100% of your days outside of a virtual reality construct, you can still listen in via remote stream: http://thestreamteam1.serverroom.us:4228/.
If you have any requests, just holler. As before I can promise nothing more than to make the attempt so the sooner you get those requests in, the better! Hit me up here in comments, on Twitter (amandajustice), or on Facebook (facebook.com/the.amanda.justice).
Or not. I just lost two more pounds so it's all good :P
My host this fine evening will be the always Glamtastic Mackenzie Rasmuson of Second Life, which is where this event will be taking place -- in Holmesk at the Glamshack, to be precise. For those of you who spend 100% of your days outside of a virtual reality construct, you can still listen in via remote stream: http://thestreamteam1.serverroom.us:4228/.
If you have any requests, just holler. As before I can promise nothing more than to make the attempt so the sooner you get those requests in, the better! Hit me up here in comments, on Twitter (amandajustice), or on Facebook (facebook.com/the.amanda.justice).
Or not. I just lost two more pounds so it's all good :P
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
These Boots Were Made for Walking
As I mentioned in the post immediately prior, I've finally negotiated an uneasy truce with my treadmill. The poor thing has been languishing most of the past six or seven years, and as a result of that, it's developed quite an attitude.
I've never been much of one for deliberate physical activity. When I was young, our neighborhood had a plethora of young boys, but there were only 3 girls near my age. The first one moved to California, then the second moved to the north end of town, leaving me with only one other female on the street, and she and I just didn't share many interests at that age. So past the age of nine or so, my default leisure activities were reading or watching TV.
In my teen years I had mandatory P.E. in school, which helped. And during my days at community college, I walked 3-6 miles per day. My parents live near a large-ish lake with a walking path around it, so I'd get up in the morning at oh-dark-hundred, stumble around the lake, come home, get dressed, go to school then work, then come home and put on the walking clothes again, stumble around the lake... repeat as necessary. I weighed 122-123, and could eat anything.
It was revolting. Hee.
When I moved to Tallahassee for my last two years of college I was dragging myself all over campus on foot, simply due to complete impatience with the bus schedule. It wasn't deliberate exercise, but my body didn't know that and cooperated with keeping my weight at a good level.
That was all she wrote when I graduated, though. I held steady for a couple of years due to the grace of God and a fantastic metabolism, but after that is when my body started thumbing its nose at me, and I began the progression that finally had me weighing 200 pounds in August of 2006.
I hit a low of 145 in November of 2007 and I've been bickering and struggling with my metabolism and eating since that time, hitting 160 in January, then down to 147 in mid-March just before I quit smoking, and back up to a number I will NOT recount here a few weeks ago.
Suffice it to say, I'm back down to 159. Whew. But yeah, that got ugly there.
One thing I realized in this last period after quitting smoking is that I just have to exercise. No choice. I flat-out must do some deliberate physical activity almost every day or my weight will go back up and I will weigh 200 pounds or more again.
And that, my friends, would be unacceptable.
So last Monday, with the children out of the house with their grandparents (because one of my huge excuses for not working out is that the kids come out and stare at me as if I'm a creature in the zoo when I do it), I eyeballed the treadmill with no small amount of suspicion and climbed back on it. I only made it for 20 minutes that first day, but upped my time to 25 minutes last Tuesday, and have progressed to 50 minutes both this Monday and Tuesday.
My routine varies on it so far. Early last week I was trying to run and walk, with 60 seconds of running followed by 90 seconds of walking, but that wasn't going to work for too long. I want to try that again sometime, because one goal I have is to actually be faster than my delightful offspring. For now, though, I'm tickled pink that I'm walking at a brisk clip covering over 2.5 miles in 50 minutes.
And it seems that the physical activity was exactly what was needed, because the scale finally budged.
Whew. Now to just keep doing it.
I've never been much of one for deliberate physical activity. When I was young, our neighborhood had a plethora of young boys, but there were only 3 girls near my age. The first one moved to California, then the second moved to the north end of town, leaving me with only one other female on the street, and she and I just didn't share many interests at that age. So past the age of nine or so, my default leisure activities were reading or watching TV.
In my teen years I had mandatory P.E. in school, which helped. And during my days at community college, I walked 3-6 miles per day. My parents live near a large-ish lake with a walking path around it, so I'd get up in the morning at oh-dark-hundred, stumble around the lake, come home, get dressed, go to school then work, then come home and put on the walking clothes again, stumble around the lake... repeat as necessary. I weighed 122-123, and could eat anything.
It was revolting. Hee.
When I moved to Tallahassee for my last two years of college I was dragging myself all over campus on foot, simply due to complete impatience with the bus schedule. It wasn't deliberate exercise, but my body didn't know that and cooperated with keeping my weight at a good level.
That was all she wrote when I graduated, though. I held steady for a couple of years due to the grace of God and a fantastic metabolism, but after that is when my body started thumbing its nose at me, and I began the progression that finally had me weighing 200 pounds in August of 2006.
I hit a low of 145 in November of 2007 and I've been bickering and struggling with my metabolism and eating since that time, hitting 160 in January, then down to 147 in mid-March just before I quit smoking, and back up to a number I will NOT recount here a few weeks ago.
Suffice it to say, I'm back down to 159. Whew. But yeah, that got ugly there.
One thing I realized in this last period after quitting smoking is that I just have to exercise. No choice. I flat-out must do some deliberate physical activity almost every day or my weight will go back up and I will weigh 200 pounds or more again.
And that, my friends, would be unacceptable.
So last Monday, with the children out of the house with their grandparents (because one of my huge excuses for not working out is that the kids come out and stare at me as if I'm a creature in the zoo when I do it), I eyeballed the treadmill with no small amount of suspicion and climbed back on it. I only made it for 20 minutes that first day, but upped my time to 25 minutes last Tuesday, and have progressed to 50 minutes both this Monday and Tuesday.
My routine varies on it so far. Early last week I was trying to run and walk, with 60 seconds of running followed by 90 seconds of walking, but that wasn't going to work for too long. I want to try that again sometime, because one goal I have is to actually be faster than my delightful offspring. For now, though, I'm tickled pink that I'm walking at a brisk clip covering over 2.5 miles in 50 minutes.
And it seems that the physical activity was exactly what was needed, because the scale finally budged.
Whew. Now to just keep doing it.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Title Goes Here
I've started about three different posts, and none of them are working for me.
In summary:
1. The ever-widening-ass disease I developed after quitting smoking is still attempting to hold me in its greedy little grasp. In retaliation, I have negotiated a tenuous truce with my treadmill, as simply counting calories is turning me into a madwoman.
2. There is a plot afoot by food manufacturers to cause me to continue to suffer from the above-mentioned syndrome. This is evidenced by a) the disappearance of Merita light wheat hamburger buns from the grocery store shelves; and b) the disappearance of Libby's Pure Pumpkin from those same shelves.
3. I'm not as stressed as recent posts (including this one) would make me seem.
4. Shutting up now, lest this become Discarded Post No. 4.
In summary:
1. The ever-widening-ass disease I developed after quitting smoking is still attempting to hold me in its greedy little grasp. In retaliation, I have negotiated a tenuous truce with my treadmill, as simply counting calories is turning me into a madwoman.
2. There is a plot afoot by food manufacturers to cause me to continue to suffer from the above-mentioned syndrome. This is evidenced by a) the disappearance of Merita light wheat hamburger buns from the grocery store shelves; and b) the disappearance of Libby's Pure Pumpkin from those same shelves.
3. I'm not as stressed as recent posts (including this one) would make me seem.
4. Shutting up now, lest this become Discarded Post No. 4.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Diet Coke Go Boom
Did you know that if you take a 12-pack of Diet Coke and store it in your car for four or so hours...
in the Florida summer sun...
in a car facing west...
and then attempt to transition it into your refrigerator, that the Diet Coke may not take kindly to that? And it may, in fact, explode in your face?
Yeah, well, I didn't either. I mean, I should have considered it was a possibility, but exploding Diet Coke just wasn't quite on my radar today.
Huh. Lesson learned.
[note: I am so glad I was wearing my glasses while doing this, because that freaking can's blast was directed right toward my eyes... GACK!!!!]
in the Florida summer sun...
in a car facing west...
and then attempt to transition it into your refrigerator, that the Diet Coke may not take kindly to that? And it may, in fact, explode in your face?
Yeah, well, I didn't either. I mean, I should have considered it was a possibility, but exploding Diet Coke just wasn't quite on my radar today.
Huh. Lesson learned.
[note: I am so glad I was wearing my glasses while doing this, because that freaking can's blast was directed right toward my eyes... GACK!!!!]
Friday, July 17, 2009
And ANOTHER thing
I nearly ripped one of my bosses a new one over capitalization just now.
"You do realize that the only thing I have to show for my nearly forty years on this earth is my English degree, and you people won't even let me use it because you insist on creating your own rules for writing!"
And then I capitalized the words he wanted capitalized, against my better judgment and all rules of grammar and mechanics.
Because that's what they pay me for. Not the lectures.
Sigh.
"You do realize that the only thing I have to show for my nearly forty years on this earth is my English degree, and you people won't even let me use it because you insist on creating your own rules for writing!"
And then I capitalized the words he wanted capitalized, against my better judgment and all rules of grammar and mechanics.
Because that's what they pay me for. Not the lectures.
Sigh.
Moody
I hate this edging-up-on-menopause garbage. Just pause already, dangit!
Toss a bit of mid-life "holy crap, my life's on the downward slope and just what do I have to show for it" crisis stuff in... ouch.
And the moodiness can leave any time now, too. At least half the time I feel as if I'm divided into two different people: one who's about to burst into tears or snap into a rage at any minute; and another who's desperately shaking the afore-mentioned lunatic yelling "Snap out of it, woman!"
Sheesh.
Well, on the plus side at least even when I'm a hormonal wreck there's a part of me that knows what's going on. I just wish that part of me were a bit more helpful when I'm in one of these funks and in danger of dragging everyone near me down into the abyss.
There's your melodrama. "The abyss."
Good grief. If I could roll my eyes at myself I would.
Headdesk.
Toss a bit of mid-life "holy crap, my life's on the downward slope and just what do I have to show for it" crisis stuff in... ouch.
And the moodiness can leave any time now, too. At least half the time I feel as if I'm divided into two different people: one who's about to burst into tears or snap into a rage at any minute; and another who's desperately shaking the afore-mentioned lunatic yelling "Snap out of it, woman!"
Sheesh.
Well, on the plus side at least even when I'm a hormonal wreck there's a part of me that knows what's going on. I just wish that part of me were a bit more helpful when I'm in one of these funks and in danger of dragging everyone near me down into the abyss.
There's your melodrama. "The abyss."
Good grief. If I could roll my eyes at myself I would.
Headdesk.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Why...
WHY is it that the statements "We don't throw balls in the house," and "We don't run in the house," cause deafness in all humans under the age of 18?
Just curious. Outta here now. I have to confiscate a ball from some children.
Just curious. Outta here now. I have to confiscate a ball from some children.
Monday, July 13, 2009
On Air TONIGHT ONLY!!
Yes, boys and girls, I have yet another of my extremely rare DJing appearances online tonight. I can be heard on this stream: http://thestreamteam1.serverroom.us:4228/ from 8:00 - 10:00 p.m. Eastern Time.
The theme of the set is likely best described as "Stuff Amanda Likes to Listen to and Will Therefore Shamelessly Play Since She's in Control of the Airwaves, Dammit." This would include 80's (both pop and the harder stuff), 90's, current-ish pieces, some Celtic, more Bowling for Soup that most people can reasonably stomach... basically, whatever floats my boat.
Taking requests also floats my boat, but I'm very limited in my music. Still, you can feel free to post your requests here or kick at me via Facebook (Amanda Justice -- username the.amanda.justice), or Twitter (amandajustice) before my set and I'll do my best.
Oh, and since this DJing gig is through Second Life, for those of you in SL it's at the Glamshack (in Holmesk) from 5-7PM SLT (that's Second Life Time, aka Pacific).
I'm Ajay McDowwll in SL (Amanda Justice = A.J. = Ajay, just to clarify, and no I didn't know before it was too late that "Ajay" happens to be a guy's name in some countries, dangit), so that's how I'll be referring to myself. Holler and I'll give you a shout-out on the stream :)
The theme of the set is likely best described as "Stuff Amanda Likes to Listen to and Will Therefore Shamelessly Play Since She's in Control of the Airwaves, Dammit." This would include 80's (both pop and the harder stuff), 90's, current-ish pieces, some Celtic, more Bowling for Soup that most people can reasonably stomach... basically, whatever floats my boat.
Taking requests also floats my boat, but I'm very limited in my music. Still, you can feel free to post your requests here or kick at me via Facebook (Amanda Justice -- username the.amanda.justice), or Twitter (amandajustice) before my set and I'll do my best.
Oh, and since this DJing gig is through Second Life, for those of you in SL it's at the Glamshack (in Holmesk) from 5-7PM SLT (that's Second Life Time, aka Pacific).
I'm Ajay McDowwll in SL (Amanda Justice = A.J. = Ajay, just to clarify, and no I didn't know before it was too late that "Ajay" happens to be a guy's name in some countries, dangit), so that's how I'll be referring to myself. Holler and I'll give you a shout-out on the stream :)
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Dress
I just tried on the dress I'm getting married in. GACK! What was I THINKING???
Not about getting married -- I'm good with the whole "getting married" thing. Believe you me, I wouldn't be doing this again (for the third freaking time) if it weren't the right decision. No questions there.
But the DRESS. Oh. My. God.
I don't know if it's the pounds I put on since I quit smoking or what, but it is completely inappropriate. It's terrifyingly low in front. I mean, it's "let the girls out to say 'hi!!'" low. It fit much better about ten pounds ago, as it's apparent I've put on a decent share of those pounds in my chest.
There's no reasonable way I can drop ten pounds in a month.
Crap.
Not about getting married -- I'm good with the whole "getting married" thing. Believe you me, I wouldn't be doing this again (for the third freaking time) if it weren't the right decision. No questions there.
But the DRESS. Oh. My. God.
I don't know if it's the pounds I put on since I quit smoking or what, but it is completely inappropriate. It's terrifyingly low in front. I mean, it's "let the girls out to say 'hi!!'" low. It fit much better about ten pounds ago, as it's apparent I've put on a decent share of those pounds in my chest.
There's no reasonable way I can drop ten pounds in a month.
Crap.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Ahhhh...
Amazing what a few days can do.
The hormonal overload is passing. Some months it's just beyond ridiculous, whereas others it's negligible. This, obviously, was the former type of month.
I'd kind of figured that out when Choreboy and I went out to see The Proposal (he's got a thing for Sandra Bullock) and I teared up and got all sniffly when the preview for Fame came on.
Good grief.
And just for the record, I don't hate my job or anything. I don't love what I do, but I really like the people I work with, and considering some of the employment experiences I've been through, that is just a huge freaking positive. There are also some challenges, which is a good thing. No, it's not what I planned to be doing. EVER. But it pays the bills and doesn't have me so stressed out that I can't sleep nights -- both plusses that can't possibly be rated highly enough.
I can go back to school someday, if I want. Not right now... but someday.
It's enough.
Thanks for commenting, everyone, and for listening.
The hormonal overload is passing. Some months it's just beyond ridiculous, whereas others it's negligible. This, obviously, was the former type of month.
I'd kind of figured that out when Choreboy and I went out to see The Proposal (he's got a thing for Sandra Bullock) and I teared up and got all sniffly when the preview for Fame came on.
Good grief.
And just for the record, I don't hate my job or anything. I don't love what I do, but I really like the people I work with, and considering some of the employment experiences I've been through, that is just a huge freaking positive. There are also some challenges, which is a good thing. No, it's not what I planned to be doing. EVER. But it pays the bills and doesn't have me so stressed out that I can't sleep nights -- both plusses that can't possibly be rated highly enough.
I can go back to school someday, if I want. Not right now... but someday.
It's enough.
Thanks for commenting, everyone, and for listening.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Muttering various imprecations...
Warning: hormone-driven bitchfest follows.
I'm so bloated I think I'm holding half the state's water.
It's concentrated in my gut and my chest, and has the unfortunate effect of making me look about 5 months pregnant. Which would be fine if I were, but I'm not.
I'm PMSsing like nobody's business.
Oh, and my period just arrived! Joy.
I just erased a HUGE long whine/ rant/ vent post that seriously made me think I'm having a midlife crisis about my career. Not surprising since no one walks across that stage to collect a B.A. planning to become a glorified secretary.
I miss our interior designer from work, because she moved back to the midwest a couple of months ago, leaving me the only full-time female in the office.
There's no one to laugh with when the company president breaks into song mid-afternoon, and the CADD manager and senior CADD operator join with him as the percussion and wind section, leaving me an audience of one.
The only other girl in the house is Emily-the-homicidal-cat.
In addition to bloat, some of this has to be actual "it will stay with you even past the period" weight because I've been eating like a moron.
And I have that size six dress to fit into in FIVE WEEKS. Oh. My. God. It's going to look awful.
So of course, Choreboy is bringing over some Burger King so I can get my daily grease intake up to par. Because the gyro, potato salad, and baklava I had for lunch just weren't sufficient for that.
Earlier today I was thinking how nice my skin was looking at least, so tonight a cluster of three zits broke out at the right corner of my nose.
The cat just threw up on the carpet.
Again.
I give.
I'm so bloated I think I'm holding half the state's water.
It's concentrated in my gut and my chest, and has the unfortunate effect of making me look about 5 months pregnant. Which would be fine if I were, but I'm not.
I'm PMSsing like nobody's business.
Oh, and my period just arrived! Joy.
I just erased a HUGE long whine/ rant/ vent post that seriously made me think I'm having a midlife crisis about my career. Not surprising since no one walks across that stage to collect a B.A. planning to become a glorified secretary.
I miss our interior designer from work, because she moved back to the midwest a couple of months ago, leaving me the only full-time female in the office.
There's no one to laugh with when the company president breaks into song mid-afternoon, and the CADD manager and senior CADD operator join with him as the percussion and wind section, leaving me an audience of one.
The only other girl in the house is Emily-the-homicidal-cat.
In addition to bloat, some of this has to be actual "it will stay with you even past the period" weight because I've been eating like a moron.
And I have that size six dress to fit into in FIVE WEEKS. Oh. My. God. It's going to look awful.
So of course, Choreboy is bringing over some Burger King so I can get my daily grease intake up to par. Because the gyro, potato salad, and baklava I had for lunch just weren't sufficient for that.
Earlier today I was thinking how nice my skin was looking at least, so tonight a cluster of three zits broke out at the right corner of my nose.
The cat just threw up on the carpet.
Again.
I give.
Monday, July 06, 2009
50 Things You've Never Been Asked to Share
I'd attribute this to the person from whom I grabbed it, but it's from a Facebook Friend so.. well, thbbbpppttt.
1. What color is your toothbrush? Pink (manual) or blue (electric).
2. Name one person who made you smile today? The Gum Zombie.
3. What were you doing at 8 am this morning? Strapping an ice pack to my right knee because I still haven't mastered the art of walking upright after thirty-nine years of practice.
4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Listening to The Big Boss discuss termites with The Bug Guy.
5. What is your favorite candy bar? Snickers. Or Reese's. But those are cups, not a bar. So probably Snickers.
6. Have you ever been to a strip club? Uh, that'd be a no.
7. What is the last thing you said aloud? "Dude."
8. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Samoa, as in the limited edition Edy's Girl Scout Cookie ice cream.
9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Diet Coke.
10. Do you like your wallet? Uhm, sure. I guess I do. It's functional.
11. What was the last thing you ate? Lay's Sour Cream and Onion Potato Chips.
12. Have you bought any new clothing items this week? Good grief no.
13. The last sporting event you watched? Some golf thingie on Saturday at my brother's.
14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? Butter.
15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? Choreboy.
16. Ever go camping? If rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor of the church social hall counts, then sure.
17. Do you take vitamins daily? No.
18. Do you go to church every Sunday? No.
19. Do you have a tan? No, but I've got an amazing fluorescent white glow going.
20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? Only if I'm really craving salt.
21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? If it's in a cup or glass. Cans and bottles don't get straws.
22. What did your last text message say? Not telling. See #15 above :P
23. What are you doing tomorrow? Going to work, trying not to hurl myself headfirst over the dog gate at my parents' house (see #3 above).
25. Look to your left, what do you see? A printout of the "Cat in Cup" picture.
26. What color is your watch? Antiqued gold.
27. What do you think of when you hear the word Australia? Didgeridoo.
28. What is your birthstone? Diamond.
29. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru.
30. What is your favorite number? 13.
31. Who's the last person you talked to on the phone? Someone at some staffing company. No, we're not hiring. This economy bites.
32. Any plans today? Make it home alive (again, see item #3).
33. How many states have you lived in? Three: California, Florida, and Alabama.
34. Biggest annoyance right now? Food that sings to me when I am trying to be good.
35. Last song listened to? Chumbawumba's Tub Thumping (or whatever it is)
36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? If I wanted to badly enough, sure.
37. Do you have a maid service clean your house? He's called Choreboy for a reason.
38. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time? Birkenstocks. You know, the NUMBER ONE thing that brings folks to this blog is googling "Stinky Birkenstocks"?? Weird.
39. Are you jealous of anyone? Not terribly. Mildly envious of some, sure, but it's not overwhelming or even ongoing.
40. Is anyone jealous of you? Probably on the same level that I am of others. Nothing major.
41. Do you love anyone? Well duh. Yes. Romantically, Choreboy. In the parental sense, the Elder Offspring and Gum Zombie. Then there's the rest of the family, friends, etc...
42. Do any of your friends have children? Yeah, I'd say so. We're elderly; most of us have spawned.
43. What do you usually do during the day? Work.
44. Do you hate anyone that you know right now? Not that I'm aware of. I don't have the patience or excess stomach lining for it.
45. Do you use the word 'hello' daily? Yep.
46. What color is your car? Green. Yay.
47. Do you like cats? God I hope so. I have three.
48. Are you thinking about someone right now? Yep. (It didn't ask who!)
49. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Atlanta? Yes.
50. How did you get your worst scar? I was four years old, and my mother had taken me to the pool. I decided to jump off the edge backwards and I didn't jump back quite far enough. Ouch. Four stitches in my chin. It's only visible if you know where to look -- it's out of sight if you're looking at me straight on. But anyway, yeah. That's the worst one.
No I'm not going to tag anyone with this, but if you want to run with it (I grabbed it out of desperation for a topic myself), please link back here or drop a link in comments. Random information is good.
1. What color is your toothbrush? Pink (manual) or blue (electric).
2. Name one person who made you smile today? The Gum Zombie.
3. What were you doing at 8 am this morning? Strapping an ice pack to my right knee because I still haven't mastered the art of walking upright after thirty-nine years of practice.
4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Listening to The Big Boss discuss termites with The Bug Guy.
5. What is your favorite candy bar? Snickers. Or Reese's. But those are cups, not a bar. So probably Snickers.
6. Have you ever been to a strip club? Uh, that'd be a no.
7. What is the last thing you said aloud? "Dude."
8. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Samoa, as in the limited edition Edy's Girl Scout Cookie ice cream.
9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Diet Coke.
10. Do you like your wallet? Uhm, sure. I guess I do. It's functional.
11. What was the last thing you ate? Lay's Sour Cream and Onion Potato Chips.
12. Have you bought any new clothing items this week? Good grief no.
13. The last sporting event you watched? Some golf thingie on Saturday at my brother's.
14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? Butter.
15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? Choreboy.
16. Ever go camping? If rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor of the church social hall counts, then sure.
17. Do you take vitamins daily? No.
18. Do you go to church every Sunday? No.
19. Do you have a tan? No, but I've got an amazing fluorescent white glow going.
20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? Only if I'm really craving salt.
21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? If it's in a cup or glass. Cans and bottles don't get straws.
22. What did your last text message say? Not telling. See #15 above :P
23. What are you doing tomorrow? Going to work, trying not to hurl myself headfirst over the dog gate at my parents' house (see #3 above).
25. Look to your left, what do you see? A printout of the "Cat in Cup" picture.
26. What color is your watch? Antiqued gold.
27. What do you think of when you hear the word Australia? Didgeridoo.
28. What is your birthstone? Diamond.
29. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru.
30. What is your favorite number? 13.
31. Who's the last person you talked to on the phone? Someone at some staffing company. No, we're not hiring. This economy bites.
32. Any plans today? Make it home alive (again, see item #3).
33. How many states have you lived in? Three: California, Florida, and Alabama.
34. Biggest annoyance right now? Food that sings to me when I am trying to be good.
35. Last song listened to? Chumbawumba's Tub Thumping (or whatever it is)
36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? If I wanted to badly enough, sure.
37. Do you have a maid service clean your house? He's called Choreboy for a reason.
38. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time? Birkenstocks. You know, the NUMBER ONE thing that brings folks to this blog is googling "Stinky Birkenstocks"?? Weird.
39. Are you jealous of anyone? Not terribly. Mildly envious of some, sure, but it's not overwhelming or even ongoing.
40. Is anyone jealous of you? Probably on the same level that I am of others. Nothing major.
41. Do you love anyone? Well duh. Yes. Romantically, Choreboy. In the parental sense, the Elder Offspring and Gum Zombie. Then there's the rest of the family, friends, etc...
42. Do any of your friends have children? Yeah, I'd say so. We're elderly; most of us have spawned.
43. What do you usually do during the day? Work.
44. Do you hate anyone that you know right now? Not that I'm aware of. I don't have the patience or excess stomach lining for it.
45. Do you use the word 'hello' daily? Yep.
46. What color is your car? Green. Yay.
47. Do you like cats? God I hope so. I have three.
48. Are you thinking about someone right now? Yep. (It didn't ask who!)
49. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Atlanta? Yes.
50. How did you get your worst scar? I was four years old, and my mother had taken me to the pool. I decided to jump off the edge backwards and I didn't jump back quite far enough. Ouch. Four stitches in my chin. It's only visible if you know where to look -- it's out of sight if you're looking at me straight on. But anyway, yeah. That's the worst one.
No I'm not going to tag anyone with this, but if you want to run with it (I grabbed it out of desperation for a topic myself), please link back here or drop a link in comments. Random information is good.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Signs That it's Time
This morning I had one of those signs that it's time to overhaul the contents of my freezer.
Maybe. Perhaps.
The boys are at daycare this summer, and they have to pack their lunches and a snack each day. Well, yesterday they each did all their own packing. The Gum Zombie got an ice pack from low in the freezer, so the Elder Offspring went up higher.
To the top shelf.
Where I am still storing the frozen expressed breastmilk from when G.Z. was an infant.
You know where this ends, right?
So this morning as I was helping him pack lunch for today, I pulled out this limp bag of very thawed, very ancient human milk.
I’d be embarrassed, but it turns out I have no shame. Good thing too because my placenta’s still in the bottom of the freezer.
Maybe. Perhaps.
The boys are at daycare this summer, and they have to pack their lunches and a snack each day. Well, yesterday they each did all their own packing. The Gum Zombie got an ice pack from low in the freezer, so the Elder Offspring went up higher.
To the top shelf.
Where I am still storing the frozen expressed breastmilk from when G.Z. was an infant.
You know where this ends, right?
So this morning as I was helping him pack lunch for today, I pulled out this limp bag of very thawed, very ancient human milk.
I’d be embarrassed, but it turns out I have no shame. Good thing too because my placenta’s still in the bottom of the freezer.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Alrightie Then...
This morning in the car:
Elder: Spider farts!
Me: Huh?
Elder: Spider. Farts.
(implied: You dummy. Aren't you listening?)
Me: Spiders don't fart.
(thinking: Why do I get into these conversations?)
Elder: Yes they do.
(implied: Parents. Sigh. Whatcha gonna do with 'em?)
Me: Okay. Then how do you know when a spider has farted?
(thinking: It's a reasonable question. Who knows, maybe he saw something on the Discovery Channel about spiders that build webs by farting?)
Elder (after some consideration): Telegram.
Me (after some combined blinking and stifled choking): A telegram.
Elder: Yep. Telegram.
Me: Alrightie then...
The Elder Offspring and the Gum Zombie had been snickering behind me the entire time this conversation was going on and burst into hysterical giggles at this point.
As for me, I'm just glad I'm not the only totally random person in my family.
Elder: Spider farts!
Me: Huh?
Elder: Spider. Farts.
(implied: You dummy. Aren't you listening?)
Me: Spiders don't fart.
(thinking: Why do I get into these conversations?)
Elder: Yes they do.
(implied: Parents. Sigh. Whatcha gonna do with 'em?)
Me: Okay. Then how do you know when a spider has farted?
(thinking: It's a reasonable question. Who knows, maybe he saw something on the Discovery Channel about spiders that build webs by farting?)
Elder (after some consideration): Telegram.
Me (after some combined blinking and stifled choking): A telegram.
Elder: Yep. Telegram.
Me: Alrightie then...
The Elder Offspring and the Gum Zombie had been snickering behind me the entire time this conversation was going on and burst into hysterical giggles at this point.
As for me, I'm just glad I'm not the only totally random person in my family.
Monday, June 22, 2009
McDonald's: 1; Amanda: 0
McDonald's kicked my ass at lunch today.
I've had Mickey Dee's maybe three times since January 1st. My favorite meal there is the double quarter pounder with cheese, and honestly, if I can't have that? It ain't worth going. So I've been extremely sparing regarding my trips to the Golden Arches.
But today just called for a grease bomb.
God it was good. Worth every freaking calorie.
I've had Mickey Dee's maybe three times since January 1st. My favorite meal there is the double quarter pounder with cheese, and honestly, if I can't have that? It ain't worth going. So I've been extremely sparing regarding my trips to the Golden Arches.
But today just called for a grease bomb.
God it was good. Worth every freaking calorie.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Hop on Pop
Or Cat in Cup.
Everyone, this is Bob. You're getting cat pictures, because, well, a) for writing? I got nothing; and b) Huge M.D. inspired me.
Bob, this is everyone.
I think The Dread Feline Roberts was a whopping 4-5 weeks old when this picture was taken. Looking at it, I believe this would be where Mack and Case came up with his initial moniker of "Worried Face." It fits.
He's now about 3.5 months old, and just as adorable along with a bit of teenagery-gawkiness. Much to his joy, he's also now taller than the Toad.
The Toad doesn't appear to have noticed.
Everyone, this is Bob. You're getting cat pictures, because, well, a) for writing? I got nothing; and b) Huge M.D. inspired me.
Bob, this is everyone.
I think The Dread Feline Roberts was a whopping 4-5 weeks old when this picture was taken. Looking at it, I believe this would be where Mack and Case came up with his initial moniker of "Worried Face." It fits.
He's now about 3.5 months old, and just as adorable along with a bit of teenagery-gawkiness. Much to his joy, he's also now taller than the Toad.
The Toad doesn't appear to have noticed.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Food, Food, Food, Food, Food...
Whew. Well, I averaged up my calories for the week (I record my food on the SparkPeople.com nutrition calculator, perfect for the anal-rententive diners among us) and although I had an "episode" at the local Chinese buffet earlier this week involving some bourbon chicken and lo mein along with a slight run-in with Checkers yesterday, my overall weekly intake is within range.
Coolness.
And I'm hungry right now, because I've been spending more time cooking this afternoon than eating.
For dinner we're having Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken, which is from a recipe I got at SparkPeople. It's 4 1/2 chicken breasts, a cup of salsa, a can of reduced fat mushroom soup (I just used the Healthy Recpies Campbells variant), a package of reduced sodium taco seasoning (I used full sodium -- there are limits) and 1/2 cup of reduced fat sour cream.
Now the recipe says to just toss the chicken into the crockpot, sprinkle the taco seasoning over it, and pour the salsa and soup over that, then cook on low for 6-8 hours. But raw chicken? In a crockpot? It may be just fine, but I feel better browning it, so I did. And mid-cycle I've had it on high rather than low, because I'd like to eat a bit earlier than 9PM.
The sour cream goes in after the rest of the ingredients are removed from the heat. It's a really highly rated recipe, and it's smelling awesome, so I'm pretty eager to try it.
Oh! And I'm also making some weird cake/ quick bread-like stuff. I've got this book "200 Under 200" by Lisa Lillien, the lady who set up the Hungry Girl website (another fun productivity-killer of mine). Her big thing for reducing the calorie count in foods is with tons of substitutions. I'm not making one of her recipes exactly, but the inspiration came from reading through the book. I took a box of yellow cake mix (the Pillsbury "moist" type, and I used the reduced sugar variant), a can of pumpkin (the Libby's "Pure Pumpkin") and the other 1/2 cup of reduced fat sour cream. Mixed all three ingredients together (I also added 1 tsp. cinnamon and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract) until well blended, and divided them into two medium-sized loaf pans. Baked at 350 for 40-45 minutes, and got two pumpkin cake/quick bread loaves out of it.
It made 16 servings total at 140 calories each, and these are BIG pieces! Yeah, I'm psyched. I hope I get some before the boys and Choreboy consume it all.
I'll report back once I've eaten. This stuff better be good.
Edited to add update:
I can heartily recommend both the Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken and the pumpkin cake. More in comments. And I'm envisioning the cake served under a scoop of caramel ice cream... bliss.
Coolness.
And I'm hungry right now, because I've been spending more time cooking this afternoon than eating.
For dinner we're having Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken, which is from a recipe I got at SparkPeople. It's 4 1/2 chicken breasts, a cup of salsa, a can of reduced fat mushroom soup (I just used the Healthy Recpies Campbells variant), a package of reduced sodium taco seasoning (I used full sodium -- there are limits) and 1/2 cup of reduced fat sour cream.
Now the recipe says to just toss the chicken into the crockpot, sprinkle the taco seasoning over it, and pour the salsa and soup over that, then cook on low for 6-8 hours. But raw chicken? In a crockpot? It may be just fine, but I feel better browning it, so I did. And mid-cycle I've had it on high rather than low, because I'd like to eat a bit earlier than 9PM.
The sour cream goes in after the rest of the ingredients are removed from the heat. It's a really highly rated recipe, and it's smelling awesome, so I'm pretty eager to try it.
Oh! And I'm also making some weird cake/ quick bread-like stuff. I've got this book "200 Under 200" by Lisa Lillien, the lady who set up the Hungry Girl website (another fun productivity-killer of mine). Her big thing for reducing the calorie count in foods is with tons of substitutions. I'm not making one of her recipes exactly, but the inspiration came from reading through the book. I took a box of yellow cake mix (the Pillsbury "moist" type, and I used the reduced sugar variant), a can of pumpkin (the Libby's "Pure Pumpkin") and the other 1/2 cup of reduced fat sour cream. Mixed all three ingredients together (I also added 1 tsp. cinnamon and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract) until well blended, and divided them into two medium-sized loaf pans. Baked at 350 for 40-45 minutes, and got two pumpkin cake/quick bread loaves out of it.
It made 16 servings total at 140 calories each, and these are BIG pieces! Yeah, I'm psyched. I hope I get some before the boys and Choreboy consume it all.
I'll report back once I've eaten. This stuff better be good.
Edited to add update:
I can heartily recommend both the Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken and the pumpkin cake. More in comments. And I'm envisioning the cake served under a scoop of caramel ice cream... bliss.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Hair Wars
Choreboy and I have been bickering back and forth about who's having a harder time with their hair.
I say I'm having more trauma:
So it's more "little old lady meets brillo pad," which is why I have a stockpile of oils, silicone-based smoothers, and industrial strength blowdryers and flat irons. Every six weeks I spend four hours shackled to my stylist's chair huffing chemicals, because the "do it yourself" dyes either won't stick to my hair or turn it an unfortunate shade of mauve. All that and a minimum of 30 minutes drying/ styling time keep me from looking like I've had unnatural relations with a light socket while riding a geritol high.
Meanwhile, Choreboy claims he's having a worse time of it because he's let his hair grow out to a whopping 1.5 inches in length on the top (it's still under 1/2" on the sides and back) and he has to brush it.
My heart bleeds for that boy. Truly it does.
I say I'm having more trauma:
- I broke the mutual non-aggression treaty I had with my hair and am attempting to have an actual style, which in the Florida humidity is no small task.
- My roots are now more white than grey, putting my natural hair color firmly at "little old lady".
- Added to this condition is the fact that my incoming white hair is more coarse, dry, and wirey just by the very nature of the beast. Bear in mind, it wasn't exactly silky straight prior to its decline in pigmentation.
So it's more "little old lady meets brillo pad," which is why I have a stockpile of oils, silicone-based smoothers, and industrial strength blowdryers and flat irons. Every six weeks I spend four hours shackled to my stylist's chair huffing chemicals, because the "do it yourself" dyes either won't stick to my hair or turn it an unfortunate shade of mauve. All that and a minimum of 30 minutes drying/ styling time keep me from looking like I've had unnatural relations with a light socket while riding a geritol high.
Meanwhile, Choreboy claims he's having a worse time of it because he's let his hair grow out to a whopping 1.5 inches in length on the top (it's still under 1/2" on the sides and back) and he has to brush it.
My heart bleeds for that boy. Truly it does.
Monday, June 08, 2009
This Just In
I'd mentioned previously that a new feline member of the household was incoming. Well, Bob arrived a couple of weeks ago, bless his little kittenish heart. No, he's not a Manx or any sort of "breed" of cat, and despite his name he has a full-length tail. For those of you interested, he was born on March 12th, and is a grey tabby sort of boy. And it's "Bob" for "Robert," for the record; all Bobcat references are directed toward the actor and not any sort of anatomical trait of the beast.
The best description of Bob and how he spends his days came from Choreboy:
"I watched Bob literally bounce off of the couch, hit the wall behind the cat tree with a loud thunk and zip headlong into Emily's litter box exactly like a cat pinball machine. I haven't seen him since. You may want to consider eliminating the kitten food considering the fact that the heavy scent of nuclear droppings once again permeates the inside of the house.
Or you could just scoop every day."
He may have a point. That aside, I think Bob's going to fit in just fine.
Edited to add:
In other news, "brainwashing" and "brainstorming"? Not the same thing. At all.
The best description of Bob and how he spends his days came from Choreboy:
"I watched Bob literally bounce off of the couch, hit the wall behind the cat tree with a loud thunk and zip headlong into Emily's litter box exactly like a cat pinball machine. I haven't seen him since. You may want to consider eliminating the kitten food considering the fact that the heavy scent of nuclear droppings once again permeates the inside of the house.
Or you could just scoop every day."
He may have a point. That aside, I think Bob's going to fit in just fine.
Edited to add:
In other news, "brainwashing" and "brainstorming"? Not the same thing. At all.
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